Punching Viserys!
by SurpriseUnicorn
Summary: One shot! A shameless self insert in which I punch everyone's favorite creepy dragon prince in the face! Because why not!


**Disclaimer: Don't own**

Grace stared at the Dothraki camp in equal parts fear and fascination. Her inner fangirl couldn't help but squeal at the thought of seeing a real Dothraki khalasar. However the other, more rational part of her brain reminded her of exactly what the Dothraki were known to do to female prisoners. Her excitement dwindled.

'Why, out of all the fandoms I could have been sent to, did it have to be Game of Thrones? I am going to die horribly' she thought, her fear growing as she was led to a large tent in the middle of the camp. 'I am going to get raped, and then brutally murdered.'

She was shaken from these dismal thoughts by a harsh command from the young Dothraki who had found her aimlessly wandering around in a nearby field. He gestured for her to enter the tent that stood before them.

"This is just the worst day." She muttered to herself, ducking under the tent flap. Once inside her eyes were immediately drawn to the imposing form of Khal Drogo. Seated beside him was the pale figure of Daenerys Targaryen, looking a little uncomfortable in her Dothraki garb. Grace idly wondered how long she had been Khaleesi at this point in the series. On Dany's other side was a scrawny white haired man who, on closer inspection proved to be Viserys Targaryen, so not that long. Standing behind Daenerys was an older gentleman in armor.'That must be Jorah.' She thought. Her fear had settled like a rock in her stomach, but she managed to drop an awkward curtsy to Drogo and Daenerys.

"Khal, Khaleesi." She said, trying to put on a brave face. Viserys looked affronted, but before he could say anything the Khal spoke. He glowered at her, growling something in Dothraki.

"I'm s-sorry, I don't sp-speak Dothraki" Grace stuttered, looking like a frightened rabbit.

"He asked you who you are, where you came from, and what you were doing when Dalgo found you wandering in the Dothraki's lands." Jorah translated helpfully. She nodded in thanks.

"Well, my name is Grace, to answer the easiest question." She started. Jorah was translating quietly to the Dothraki.

"Grace of what house?" Asked Daenerys.

"House? Oh geez, we don't really have houses where I come from. My family is descended from clan McKeown if that helps any." Viserys snorted, and Grace threw him a glance.

"And where exactly are you from? You don't look particularly Essosi." He sneered.

"Well that's a complicated question that may involve alternate worlds, but I'm from a place called America, that I don't think exists here. Let's just say I'm from very far away." Daenerys blinked and then wrinkled her brow.

"And what were you doing wandering around Dothraki lands alone without any supplies or horses?" She asked.

"I was lost. I have genuinely no idea how I got here, or how to get back home. In fact, until your guy grabbed me and brought me here, I didn't even know I was in Essos." Daenerys opened her mouth to ask another question, when Viserys cut her off.

"Sweet sister, surely you cannot put stock into anything this girl says. Look at her clothes. Listen to her speech. She is clearly either insane or stupid."

"Hey asshole, this woman can hear you." Grace said, glaring at him. His face turned an ugly shade of red.

"How dare you address me in this way, you little harlot! I am a king!" He raged.

"Wow, someone's on their man period." She said, anger slowly taking the place of fear. "Listen here you little shit. Respect is earned, and so far in the span of three minutes you've called me a child, an idiot, and a whore, in that order. Why should I respect you if you don't offer me the same courtesy?" Khal Drogo had begun to smirk as Jorah translated.

"I am king!" Viserys sputtered indignantly. "I don't owe respect to common peasant like you!"

"You're a pretty shitty king then, if you don't respect your people. Speaking of which, who exactly are you supposed to be king of? You don't really look like a Dothraki." His face twisted into a sneer.

"Look around you. I bought this army when I gave my sister to that savage. They are mine to command as I take back the iron throne and my rightful crown."

"So what I'm picking up, is basically you're borrowing your sister and her husbands army? That's your big claim to authority? I hate to tell you this sweetheart but you're not the king of anything. You lost any "birthright" to the throne when it was conquered . Your family's dynasty is over. Best you can hope for now is to reconquer it and start again, which is fine. That's how monarchy works, but don't get all high and mighty thinking it's your divine right to rule. To put this in a way even you should be able to understand, you ain't got the rights to shit."

"You miserable little whore!" He yelled, standing up. "I'll have your tongue cut out for these lies!"

"Okay, that's it. I've had it about up to here with you, you giant pissbaby. If you call me a prostitute one more time I swear by all the Valar that I will shove my foot so far up your scrawny lizard ass that you'll be spitting toenails for a month."

At this point the Dothraki, who had been listening raptly to Jorah's translation of the escalating conflict, started whispering amongst themselves. Grace didn't know what they were saying, but they didn't look like they were about to kill her, so she tuned them out. They were actually placing wagers on who would win if it came down to a fight, the strange foreign woman wearing breaches, or the whiny princeling. Drogo chuckled at how low his blood riders believed Viserys' chances of winning were. It was about time the arrogant little shit was knocked down a peg or two in his opinion. Viserys wasn't paying any attention to this as his vision tinged red with rage and a rushing sound filled his ears.

"YOU HAVE AWOKEN THE DRAGON NOW YOU LITTLE SLUT!" He screamed, lunging at her.

"Bitch, shut the fuck up." Grace snapped, punching him straight in the jaw. He fell back clutching his face in shock and pain.

"What, never had a woman fight back before?" She taunted, teeth bared in a savage grin. "At least Joffrey has the excuse of being thirteen to explain why he's such a craven pathetic little cunt. What's your reason?"

He let out a wordless scream of rage and rushed at her again. She let him get closer this time before kicking him hard in the crotch. He fell to the ground, tears in his eyes, clutching his manhood. The Dothraki howled with delight as the pompous ass moaned in pain. Jorah let out a sigh and shook his head in disgust. He wasn't upset it happened, he was disappointed he hadn't gotten to do it himself. Daenerys looked on unmoved at the pathetic form of her brother. Grace shook out her stinging knuckles ruefully. His face was really too bony.

"Well you know what they say, talk shit get hit. God that was satisfying." This was met with a roar of laughter from the Dothraki.

"Bitches get stitches." Agreed Dalgo in a heavy accent from behind her. She grinned at him.

"Seriously, I've seen tougher dragons on Dragon Tails." She scoffed at her fallen opponent. The Dothraki didn't understand the reference, but it sounded derogatory, so they laughed anyway. She heaved a sigh and offered a hand to the disgraced man.

"Look, think we can call it square?" She asked, but he knocked her hand aside.

"Watch your back you filthy peasant." He growled as he stalked out of the tent.

"Geez, someone must have pissed into his Cheerios this morning. What a sore loser." She muttered before turning back to Khal Drogo And Daenerys.

"Look, I really am sorry for trespassing on your lands. It was completely unintentional. I would be forever in your debt if you released me so I can attempt to get back home." The Khal, who has finally stopped chuckling, looked at her appraisingly as Jorah translated what she said. Finally he spoke, and Jorah translated to her.

"The Khal finds you amusing. He wishes you to stay and dine with the khalasar tonight, and tell us more of your peculiar homeland. Tomorrow you will be free to leave."

Grace nodded appreciatively at them. 'It could be worse,' She thought. 'I could have ended up with the Boltons for a night. I highly doubt Ramsey would have been that easy to punch.'

 **AN: HAHAHAHA I LIVE! I haven't posted anything in years! Lol my friend, MsDanteMoon, and I were discussing GoT for no good reason today and we came up with the idea for this one shot! I decided to write and post it for no good reason! "But Unicorn?" I hear you cry, "are you gonna finish any of your other fics, the ones you haven't updated in years?" The answer is... PROBABLY NOT! Lol sorry! I wrote them when I was fifteen and I look back on them and cringe. This one isn't much better but it's a one shot so I never have to look at it again! Anyways, feel free to comment and fav, I do actually read comments, Even if I never post anything! Also you should check out MsDanteMoon on watpad. She came up with the funny stuff, like "Bitches get stitches." À tout alors!**


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